


Ben

by Gumnut



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: First Kiss, Implied Torture, M/M, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 00:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19896736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: “You have to let me go.”





	Ben

**Author's Note:**

> Fandomversary Fic Four - Virgil/Brains and First Kiss for @fictivekaleidoscope
> 
> Okay, Virgil/Brains is not a pairing I have written before, but that is not to say that I can’t write it. The difficulty here is that in order for me to give it its due and create the romantic atmosphere a first kiss requires…the last time I tried that it took me 60,000 words. I don’t think I have the oomph to pull that off for this pairing (I could, but it would take at least two months and I’d never get to the next prompt - just ask those still waiting their turn after Gentle Rain - sorry guys, I’ll get there eventually). So you have this fic. Which could definitely be a much bigger fic and from a different perspective and with a whole pile of more slashy lines in it than the one lousy one I managed here. But it is what it is, so I hope you enjoy it anyway ::hugs::

He wasn’t with them very long.

It was something that Hale should have been angry about, but to be honest, he was just relieved.

The Boss hauled him in late one evening, carelessly throwing the little man to the floor.

“Watch him. This one is worth more than you know.” And with his usual careless abandon, stalked off into the depths of his fully carpeted, silk-curtained, dark, evil lair.

Hale knew what was good for him, though, and helped the fallen man to his feet. The Boss had tied his hands behind his back, so when he fell, he had no protection. Already his cheekbone was swelling and one of the lenses of his glasses was cracked.

“P-please, y-you have to l-let m-m-me go.” His eyes attempted to latch onto Hale’s, but Hale had been working for the Boss for a very long time. This wasn’t his first prisoner and he doubted he would be his last.

While the man continued to plead in his half comprehensible stutter, Hale attached his snared wrists to the wall. He did it in a way the little man could sit on the floor with at least the barest of comfort. After all, history had proven that the Boss would make it as uncomfortable as possible in the days to come.

Hale was resigned to having to watch yet another soul ravaged by his employer’s thirst for power.

After a while the man’s voice faded away, the realisation of futility forcing his silence. He let his body hang a little against the wall and simply stared up at Hale.

“W-what’s y-your n-n-name?”

Hale turned away. No emotional connection to the prisoner allowed. It would only hurt more later.

“I-I have to c-call you s-something.”

Hale glanced back at the man and found himself captured by a pair of brown eyes. A slight frown, the jagged crack in the left lens, and an intensity that spoke of something, something Hale could not define.

“Call me what you like, I don’t care.”

That frown increased for a moment. “Ben. Y-you c-can be B-Ben.”

“Why?”

The man shrugged. “I-It is i-impol-lite to say Oi, you.”

Hale stared at him. “What’s your name?”

“H-Hiram.”

“Hello, Hiram.”

“Y-you need to l-let me go.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s you or me, kid. I’m afraid, it has to be you.”

“Why d-does it h-have to b-be one of us?”

“Because that is the way it is.”

“I d-disagree.”

“Too bad. Nothin’ I can do about it.”

The small man fell silent after that and eventually, and thankfully, fell asleep.

-o-o-o-

The Boss was unpredictable. It was perhaps his most powerful attribute. It had certainly kept him alive for innumerable years. So Hale was not surprised that less than two hours later, he had Brian and Sue barging into the cell and rudely waking the prisoner. The little man was dragged half asleep from the room.

When he came back three hours later, his glasses were gone, there was blood on his face and he was barely conscious.

So it would be torture this time. Hours of demands and threats, blood and tears. Hale had seen it all before.

And had to clean up the mess.

Snared hands were once again tied to the wall. Brian and Sue glared at Hale as they left.

Screw ‘em. Thought they had the Boss’ ear did they? They’d learn soon enough.

Hiram was limp against the wall, his breathing harsh through a possibly broken nose.

“Ben?”

“What?”

“You have to let me go.” Apparently a broken nose was the cure for a stutter.

“I can’t, Hiram. And why would I want to?”

“B-because they are c-coming.”

“Who?”

But Hiram didn’t answer, just turned his face way.

-o-o-o-

Hale cursed his ignorance an hour and a half later.

At first he thought it was thunder. It rumbled across the compound and the slit of a window in the stonework fell dark.

But it didn’t stop. It kept rumbling and got closer. Soon the ground itself was vibrating in harmony.

Hiram’s head came up and his split lip smiled.

Something in Hale’s gut twisted.

He darted out into the corridor, but it was empty and in the distance he could hear gunfire. He pulled his own weapon, suddenly aware that perhaps he wasn’t in the best position if that thunder heralded some friends of Hiram.

Darting back into the cell he was confronted by his prisoner attempting to get to his feet.

“Ben, hide.”

“What?”

“H-Hide-“

A rumble and the far wall partially collapsed. A mechanical figure, silhouetted by the sunlight outside, shoved masonry out of its path. It hissed and wheezed and a bolt of red light shot from its shoulder, vaporising stone.

Hale backed away and held up his gun.

“Ben, no!”

“Brains!”

“Virgil-“

The gun went off.

The shot echoed throughout the room. A spray of sparks as the bullet ricocheted off the mechanical man.

Hot red scarred Hale’s vision and the gun was sliced from his hand. Heat threatened his fingers. He yelped and scurried backwards.

Hale found himself on the floor staring up at a man dressed in blue and green and wrapped in metal.

A symbol shone from his shoulder.

IR

International Rescue.

Eyes as equally as brown as his prisoner’s stared down at him.

“Virgil...he d-d-didn’t do anything.”

Something flashed in those eyes. Thin lips and calm fury.

It was terrifying.

Grey bodies swarmed through the hole in the wall. The more familiar insignia of the GDF bouncing all over the room.

Hale was snagged and restrained, but he only had eyes for the man named Virgil.

The IR operative hissed and weaved his way over to Hiram and, pulling himself out of the mechanical suit, he threw off his helmet, revealing jet black hair.

Deft fingers made quick work of Hiram’s restraints and the little man was suddenly enveloped in the bigger man’s embrace.

Soft and barely heard over the ruckus in the room. “Brains, I am so sorry.”

“N-not your f-fault, Virgil.”

A big hand cupped the man’s swollen cheek. “Scott and Colonel Casey have him. He won’t be doing this again.”

“I-I most certainly h-hope not.” Hiram looked up at his rescuer. “Thank you for s-saving me.”

“As if I’d do anything else.” A soft kiss to Hiram’s cheek and a brush against his unbroken upper lip. “Now, let’s get you home.”

The former prisoner was staring at his rescuer in wonder as the bigger man helped him off the ground and swung an arm around his waist.

As the pair passed Hale on the ground, Virgil glared down at him. Hiram said a handful of words. “You should have let me go.”

Brown eyes pinned him.

And Hale turned away.

-o-o-o-


End file.
